Falling
by daffodil7511
Summary: Brennan is in Maluku, quite miserable and missing Booth. Booth, meanwhile, is in Afghanistan, missing Brennan. Will they see each other before their year is up? No Season 6 spoilers here. Just my wish for B&B after the Season 5 finale.


Author's Note: This is something that I completed before spoilers came out for Season 6. Just another scenario for what I wanted to happen after that finale last May. I hope you like it, because this is about as fluffy as I can get. : )

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. If I did, well, Season 6 would be very, very different...

_**There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.**_

_**1 John 4:18**_

"_No. Things have to change. Know what? Hey, I taught you about eye contact. You taught me about evolution. So….here's to change."_

"_To change."_

There was nothing Temperance Brennan detested more than inefficiency. The clatter of metal and stone and the cacophony of voices engaged in intellectual discourse, sounds that typically appeased her as they denoted productivity, now did nothing to cool her ire. The materials and supplies she had ordered were overdue. And as they were essential in processing the artifacts that they had unearthed the week before, this meant a delay in their already beleaguered schedule and another organizational problem for her. Sometimes, being in charge was just monumentally frustrating.

She had already expressed her opinions clearly to the suppliers who just happened to have the misfortune of answering her calls. She was confident that after her tirade, they would not be making any more mistakes regarding shipment. Still, that did not satisfy her. She longed to take out her frustrations in another manner, but her current surroundings prevented her from doing anything more physical.

Sighing in disgust, she walked back to her tent to replenish her fluids. It was only midmorning, and it already looked like it was going to be a very long day.

She checked her email while she was there. They were fortunate to have satellite connections in this remote area, and all of the scientists participating in the project took full advantage of that whenever they could. She hadn't heard from Cam or Angela in a while, but noted nothing new in her inbox. She received sporadic emails from Booth, but wasn't really expecting a new one anytime soon. The lack of new correspondence did not improve her disposition.

This trip was not what she had expected it to be. She understood that there would be many hours of work involved, a facet of digs that she usually thoroughly enjoyed and anticipated. She realized as well that heading up this project meant that her attentions would be divided between the work she loved and administrative matters. Though that aspect was not something she took pleasure in, she understood her obligations. It was her moodiness, the irritability, the quick snaps of anger, that troubled her. And the melancholy. She was not a depressive individual, and worked very hard not to succumb to it as often as she did. But it was becoming a losing battle.

She had confided in Angela after two months of crying herself to sleep. She had been mortified to confess this to her friend, and had already postponed sharing it as long as she could, but she finally decided that she required some form of assistance to rectify the situation as nothing she attempted on her own had ameliorated her symptoms.

Angela had told her that what she was going through was normal, part of the grieving process. But she had a difficult time understanding that because she didn't think she was grieving. Logically, what could she be grieving about? She was participating in a mission to determine the significance of interspecies hominid remains on the evolutionary chain, an endeavor that would increase her standing in the academic community, with the potential of bringing about an accomplishment that would ensure her place in history. Surely that was not something to grieve about. Angela insisted that it was what she had left behind that was the problem. Not knowing for sure what her friend was talking about, and unwilling to have another discussion about Booth (Angela always brought everything back to Booth, as if he was the source of all her troubles), Brennan said that she would think about it and get back to her.

It was three and a half months later, and she was still nowhere near a logical explanation of her emotional conundrum. She was still irritable, still easily agitated, still crying herself to sleep most nights. She had alienated many of her colleagues, even Daisy, and had no one else to talk to. The loneliness that she felt only added to the melancholy and, though she struggled mightily against it, she felt herself sliding into despair. It was during one of those nights when she felt despondent and alone that she had written to Booth.

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He was thinking about her again. She seemed to be inescapable, though she was a few thousand miles away. He hadn't heard from her in several weeks, but that didn't stop him from wondering what she was doing now. He shook his head in defeat. Lovesick fool, that's what he was. His resolve to try and put things in perspective himself had fallen flat. He missed her outrageously, and that seemed to trump everything else.

He wasn't looking forward to the day, even as he freshened up and made his way out to the common area. It was their day off, so there was no training scheduled, no exercises planned, nothing to keep him occupied. These days were the worst, because then he had nothing else to think about but home. Home where Parker was, and where Bones should be.

He didn't have a video conference scheduled with his son that day, but still signed up for some time online. Conditions being what they were in the desert, their internet access was limited. He hoped to see some new emails from Parker, at least, or from the squints. Angela always had the most interesting stories to tell.

After breakfast, he spent time with the other guys playing cards. He didn't bet, just played for fun. Gambling didn't appeal to him anymore. He sat with them for awhile, waiting for his turn on the computer.

"Hey, Sarge!" Ripley yelled out from the communications area. "You're up. Say hi to your kid for me." The corporal had been present during one of their video conferences and had hit if off with Parker. The young man added a punch to Booth's shoulder along with a grin. Booth saluted in acknowledgement as he sat down in front of their state of the art equipment.

He accessed his email, waited a few seconds, and saw that he had five new messages. He read the one from Parker first, chuckled out loud at his son's description of his most recent soccer game. He looked at the pictures attached, and grinned in pride when he saw his son holding up a trophy that symbolized their victory.

Rebecca kept him up to date with Parker's activities, and also catalogued how he was doing in school. She had added more pictures, which made him grateful. At least this way, he didn't feel like he was missing out on too much from his son's life.

Cam's email was filled with humorous accounts of the replacements she had to find while the squints were off doing their thing. He could read between the lines to see her frustrations and sadness at being abandoned, but she always tried to make everything sound hopeful. He knew that she was just counting down the days until they all got back and were a team again.

Angela, of course, started off with the newlyweds' latest adventures in Paris. She seemed to love everything about the place, and she and Hodgins were in no hurry to leave just yet. It was towards the end of her letter that he started to feel some concern. She seemed to suggest that Bones was not doing well in Maluku. _I think she's struggling, Booth, and I don't know how to help her. Maybe you can try._ Her words were sent a sliver of alarm through him as he tried to imagine Bones in distress. He had thought that this time in Indonesia was what Bones wanted. Her last email to him, though dated a few months back, had supported this. What had happened since then?

The last email was from Bones herself. And the growing unease he started to feel with Angela's letter quickly blossomed into full blown panic as he read her letter.

_Dear Booth,_

_I honestly don't know where to begin, and I'm usually very articulate on paper. _

_I've been facing some challenges in trying to put my thoughts together coherently. Everything around me lately has been very perplexing, and nothing seems to make any kind of sense to me. This state of confusion has, of course, caused me to feel very distraught, and I have found myself wondering more and more if I have made the right choice. _

_I thought that I had, in the beginning. This opportunity had fallen into my lap fortuitously and yet seemed advantageous in that it afforded me several benefits with no apparent drawbacks. But I fear I was mistaken._

_I am having a trying time concentrating on my responsibilities, Booth. My moods….well. As you know, I do have a tendency to be temperamental at times, especially when scientific inquiry is concerned, but this has become a serious obstacle now in trying to fulfill my duties here. I believe that I can accurately utilize Zack's words after his brief encounter with the armed forces. I am failing to assimilate, Booth. This has never happened to me before. _

_I cannot stop thinking about you, and what happened between us. I feel that this is an important factor in my current state of mind. I feel a constant ache in the region of my thoracic cavity whenever I think of the way we parted. I am not entirely sure what this means, but I know I regret many things that occurred before we said goodbye. I think that I was pushing you away, and that was never my intention. I would never want to lose you, Booth. You are too important to me. And now you're in a war zone, where many bad things can happen. I must remind you now about your promise, just in case you have forgotten._

_Is this making any sense to you? I know it isn't to me. I thought it would help to write to you since you are the person primarily in my thoughts, but I'm not certain this has made any difference. _

_Before I take my leave, I would like to tell you that I miss you very much. I hope it was all right to say that. _

_Sincerely, _

_Bones_

With a similar ache in his own thoracic cavity, and a lump in his throat, Seeley Joseph Booth sat back in the metal chair and made a very important decision. Perhaps the most important of his life.

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For once, the weather was cooperating with them. Brennan and the rest of the team tried to work around the constant rain, but this proved to be a much greater challenge than any of them anticipated. Today seemed like a good day, though, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits as they worked around the site.

She was taking a much needed break at her favorite spot. She had discovered this several weeks before, a small secluded stretch of sand overlooking the water. It proved to be a welcome refuge when she wanted to be alone and undisturbed for long periods of time. Over the last week, she had come here nearly daily. She found solace here, though peace still eluded her.

It was there that he found her. It had taken 36 hours, give or take a few, for him to get to this place. He hadn't slept, and was nervous as a cat the entire time. Though he was convinced he was doing the right thing, he wasn't sure how she would react. But seeing her now, her face turned up into the sky, her hair blowing in the light breeze, gave him the courage he needed to take those last few steps.

"Bones."

She froze. Was she hallucinating? Was she thinking of him so often that she could conjure up his voice? No, that was impossible. She didn't have a brain tumor or any brain disease, so hallucinating was out of the question. And she wasn't fanciful enough to even remotely imagine that she could conjure up anything.

"Hey, Bones, you awake over there?"

No, that was his voice. She turned around, expecting nothing but wildlife around her. Her blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped down in shock.

He smiled, that trademark Booth charm smile.

She looked beautiful, was all he could think. She was darker, tanned from her hours out in the sun, her hair lighter, but her face remained the same. Temperance Brennan, gorgeous forensic anthropologist. He was expecting a joyful response to his arrival, but she had yet to speak. His Bones was rarely speechless. He was about to make some silly comment about this when he saw the tears.

That was enough to propel him forward and he pulled her into his chest, holding tight.

"Hey, hey…what's wrong, Bones?" He felt her tremble. "Bones?"

He pulled back a little so he could see her face.

"Bones, talk to me, tell me what's wrong. We'll fix it, I promise. Just tell me what it is."

Her blue eyes were filled with wonder as she reached up with both hands to cup his face. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I got your email. It sounded like you were in trouble here." Panic struck as another tear fell from her eyes. "Please don't cry. I told you, we can fix it, whatever it is."

She responded by wrapping her arms around him, and burrowing into his warmth. Nothing had ever felt so good. "I know I shouldn't be, but I'm so glad you're here."

He returned her embrace, inhaling her scent. "Why shouldn't you be?" He muttered into her hair.

"Because…you're supposed to be in Afghanistan, training soldiers." She lifted her head. "How did you get away?"

"Long story, Bones, let's talk about it later. How about you let me in on what's bothering you, huh?" He brushed another tear from her cheek. "You don't often cry so there must be something going on around here. Come on, spill."

She frowned slightly. "Spill what? Oh, you mean confess?"

"Yeah, something like that." He missed this, missed _her. _"So what is it?"

She paused for several moments, unsure of where to start. It did not go unnoticed by either partner that they still had their arms wrapped around each other. But neither was willing to let go just yet.

"Temperance…"

"Wait, Booth," she said hesitantly. She was not prepared to make any definitive statements regarding the reasons she was feeling so out of sync. " I'm just not certain where to begin. I….I've come to some conclusions during my time here that I'm not entirely sure I feel ready to share at the moment."

He had slept maybe 10 hours in the last six days. He felt that he was entitled to a little impatience.

"Okay. You mean to tell me that I came all the way here because you were 'distraught and confused', and now you don't even want to tell me why?"

Her arms dropped from their hold around his shoulders. "I didn't ask you to come," she retorted, stung by his tone.

He took a deep breath, reminding himself not to get frustrated, because this was Bones. She was inherently frustrating.

"All right. All right. Let's back up. Start over." Rubbing his hands against his face, he turned away for a second, then turned back.

"I came because your email indicated that you were in trouble, and needed help. So….here I am, ready to help."

She watched him as he stood in front of her, his eyes dark with fatigue, clearly trying to be patient with her. She was utterly confused by her feelings for him, and at the same time completely staggered by his capacity for caring. He had come all this way on such short notice because she had written to him in desperation. It was such a Booth thing to do, so….irrational. She couldn't help but smile.

"I appreciate the gesture, Booth. But I'm not in trouble. I'm just…..very confused right now."

"All right. What are you confused about? I know you, Bones, you don't get confused easily and you can usually work your way through something that puzzles you in microseconds." He took her arm and motioned her towards the log laying askew by the narrow path. Urging her to sit, he continued, "Your letter mentioned something about moodiness and failing to assimilate." He tried to ignore the fact that in the latter part of her letter she had also said that she couldn't stop thinking about him. He figured he would let her come to that when she was ready. "Can you talk to me about it?"

"I don't know, but I can try," she answered honestly as she sat. After taking several deep breaths to gather her thoughts, she began.

"My emotions have been conflicting and volatile lately, overwhelming me, and I am unaccustomed to having them take precedence over reason and logic, which are my customary methods of coping with difficult situations." She took another deep breath as she tried to find the right words to articulate the chaos churning inside her.

"I have been contemplating the recent events in my life, the Gravedigger trial for one, the decision to work on this project, and…..and…..well, our partnership, and I'm concerned that all of them have upended my abilities to compartmentalize as well as I have done in the past, "she finished in a breathless rush.

She stared out at the water, feeling very apprehensive about her confession. She wondered if Booth understood her meaning. She wondered if she was too late. This time it was she who could not make eye contact.

Booth kept silent for a minute. He wasn't sure how to react or if he even heard her correctly. But it sounded as though she wanted to open that door, and there was nothing he craved more than to walk through it. He was just afraid of getting that same door slammed in his face again. He tried to think of the right words to say what he wanted to say without scaring her off.

"Bones….what is it that you need to compartmentalize exactly?" He hoped like hell he was doing this right, because he wasn't a psychologist, and this wasn't an interrogation, and Bones wasn't exactly the kind of person who responded to cued questions.

"You," she whispered, still watching the ocean. Booth let out the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. Did she just say what he thought she said?

"What do you mean?" He didn't want to jump to conclusions. With Bones, you never knew what you were going to get.

"I mean….I've been thinking about what you said. That night. After we left Sweets' office." She made herself look at him, remembering that eye contact was important. "You intimated that you wanted us to try being in a romantic relationship together, that you had feelings for me since we first met. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night, Booth."

She looked away again, suddenly fearful of what she would find in his eyes when she finally admitted out loud the cause of her emotional upheaval. "I told you that I was a scientist, not a gambler, and that I didn't know how to change, that I didn't have your open heart. I was scared. Scared of you, scared of myself. I was scared because I wanted to say yes."

Silence fell again as Brennan tried to get her wayward emotions under control, while her partner struggled against an insane impulse to grab her and kiss her and never let her go. But he knew that there was more, and he wanted her to finish.

"Relationships are ephemeral, Booth. We have both seen that for ourselves. Transcendent love, though a beautiful concept, cannot be proven scientifically…"

"These are all abstract things you're talking about Bones," he said gently since her voice was beginning to rise in panic. "Tell me why you wanted to say yes."

This time, she looked back at him. In her eyes, he could see fear, nerves, and something else. He was afraid to name it, not yet.

"I love you. I've always loved you."

He felt his heart stop. She loved him? This whole time? Then why….

"Love is not enough to ensure a long-lasting relationship. I have loved before, none of the relationships I have had that involved this emotion has worked out well. I loved my parents, and they abandoned me. I loved Russ, and he wouldn't stay with me. Though I am capable of feeling love, there is something about me that is not conducive to sustaining love. I am not the kind of person who inspires the kind of love you talk about. I believe that you will realize this at some point in the future and…."

Her breath started to hitch, her eyes once again filling with tears.

"You will find out that there is something…missing in me, and you will change your mind. You'll change your mind, and then you'll leave, too." She forced herself to continue looking at him, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say. "I don't think I can do that, Booth. I can't risk losing you."

She held his gaze, gathering courage from the emotions she could observe swirling in his eyes. "But even with that argument, even though I know what I just said is true, I still can't help wishing…..irrationally…..that I could be the kind of woman who deserved you." She paused for a long moment, trying to find some semblance of rationality amid her turbulent feelings.

"This entire matter has played havoc on my emotions, making me feel like a…like a….," she huffed impatiently, unable to find the word she was looking for. "What is that toy that goes up and down, tied to a string?"

"A yo-yo."

"That's it. I feel like a yo-yo. I haven't yet been able to resolve the situation, which is most likely why I continue to exhibit signs of emotional instability. I have to confess that I am intensely uncomfortable with this ambiguity and I am hoping to discover a solution very soon."

"Bones?" He thought that he understood what she was trying to tell him. But there was one more thing that she needed to know before she found a way to rationalize him out of her heart.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Though she knew it was physiologically impossible, she felt her heart expand at his words, threatening to overshadow the logic that she had always relied on.

"Do you know what that means?"

"No."

"It means that I will never leave you, that I will always be here for you. I've known you and I've loved you for five years, Temperance. And I'm still here. There is nothing, _nothing, about you that is unlovable. There is nothing missing. I love you just the way you are."_

_She wanted to believe. For the first time in her life, she wanted to discard reason and follow her heart. "But…"_

"_Do you trust me?" _

_This was an easy question. "Yes."_

"_Will you trust me to show you how much I love you?"_

_She suddenly had visions of standing on the edge of a cliff. His brown eyes blazed into hers, the intensity of the emotions she found there keeping her poised at the tip. _

_It would take a leap, he knew. So he gave her one more nudge, assuring her with his eyes, with his words, with their history, that he would be there to catch her._

"_Will you trust me enough to love you?"_

_She knew what he was asking. Somehow she knew. Love was not just an emotion for him. It was something more active than just a feeling. It was a promise._

_She teetered over the edge, and kept her eyes wide open and fixed on his as she finally allowed herself to fall._

_She trusted him to catch her. _

"_Yes."_

_THE END_

Post-Narrative A/N: So...what do you think? Would really love to hear from you. Please, please review. I promise, I'll be eternally grateful. ; )


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